Utopia
by Darla1
Summary: 1000 years after the Animorphs... No additional aliens, no huge plot in the Yeerk world or anything. But... (chapter 2 modified) The rating is there for a reason.
1. Welcome To My World

When people write about the future either the humans are free or the Yeerks have won. Here is a future where both sides have found a better way. But if Yeerk nature can be better than we think, we know our own human nature and how a single person can take control of the entire world. 

****

Utopia

Grinder was all-powerful.

Grinder was authority.

Grinder was life.

Grinder was God.

In the year -02, Grinder would have been considered a tyran, a bloodthirsty dictator. 

Right now, as the year 1000 dawned, he was God.

In honor to the new century, he had had a message spoken to all of Gaâ, to all of the world he had under his power. He had wished them well, and reminded them not to forget to keep their karmas clean, and to continue to revere his name twice a day. Of course, he himself had not spoken, a qal had done that for him.

Everything was peace. The whole world was in peace. If someone broke a law, committed an offence, there was a strict penalty. The offender could be tortured for a varying amount of time. Major criminals would be personally tortured by him, then be confined for an amount of time. The confinement was a terrible experience. Some were driven mad by it. 

Cameras were placed in every room, every street. The Control department was strictly controlled by aliens, Gedds mostly. No human could be allowed to peek into their compatriots' secret businesses.

Scientists regularly made huge technological advances. Average life span was 180 years. With so much longer to live scientists could go further in their researches. The ozone layer was repaired - all old trash from the 0 years had been burnt as energy, then the world had relied on solar, wind, tidal, and wave power. Rare nuclear factories still produced a small portion of electricity, in the far north.

Families were limited to one child only. Population was severely controlled. The estimated number on the whole of humans was around 5 billion. Not too many, or there would be starvation.

A message appeared on his screen. An offence report; a habitant of the MS-219 section had not been for several days to a temple. Usually that was torture for an hour. Sighing, he got up and quickly put on the costume he wore when he appeared to his people - a thick, pitch black robe, and a black mask with blood red contours, and a flowing black cape, with a red design of a snake on it. The serpent was the symbol of divinity. Very old religious books, from before the 0 years, indicated the serpent as an evil animal, the cause of original sin. He arrogantly defied the past, decadent religions.

Accompanied by attendants, he mounted into the Lacta, a brand new ship, top of the current technology. It resembled a lot the old Andalite fighter ships - of course, most of today's technology was based on Andalite technology.

He arrived at the Imprisonment Area quickly. As Grinder briskly walked down the corridors, people stepped out of his way and bowed their heads in submission. In the torture room, a young man, in his fifties, was dragged towards him. He looked fine, but his eyes were screaming pain from the recent torture.

"Hathyn Mallveet, you have not rendered worship to your Lord for five days. What is the meaning of this absence?"

Mallveet looked up, in his eye. Shocked, then furious at such insolence, Grinder swiped at Mallveet as quickly as an Andalite tail. His implants left profound cuts in his cheek, much like a feline's claws. Implants were still rare, but made their bearers all the more deadly.

"You think you're God," said Mallveet under suppressed rage. "You think you're all powerful. But you aren't. You're not immortal. We'll kill you."

"You doubt of your Lord's power. You doubt of my power. But you can't kill me. Do you know why, you vile mass of rotting organs? Because I _am _God. I have power over all life on this planet, my power reaches out to the entire solar system, it expands to the entire galaxy! You are but a flick of isignificant dust! You will pay for your insolence, your sanity will be sruched beneath my wrath. Then we shall see." Grinder smiled cruelly.

"Confine him for a cycle!" he ordered. Two guards seized Mallveet and plunged his head into a bowl full of steel liquid, rich with Kandrona rays. Mallveet attempted to struggle, but it was useless. The Yeert slithered out of his ear, unable to resist the sweet nourishment. Mallveet started screaming in desperation.

"Dystim! NoooOOOOOOOoooo, don't leave me! NooOOOOooo…"

But it was too late. Mallveet's Yeert had tasted the delicacy and joy of real Kandrona rays, and would never be able to become dependant of it for more than three days. Dystim's and Mallveet's mental connection was broken, they had become two separate beings. 

Mallveet was sobbing in desperation, crying in despair. Most were driven to madness when they were deprived of their Yeert, and even if they got their companion back it would be different. There would no longer be the common mind, both human and Yeert would be capable of hurting, betraying the other.

This precious balance had been adopted ever since the Milky Way treatee, between Yeerks and humans. Grinder found he'd like to refresh his memory on those warring years. He went to the Palace library, and the librarian gave him the appropriate infodisk. Grinder plunged into the memories of a thousand years ago, before year 0.

The time of the Seerow War.

It was the official reunion, the big meeting between Andalite, Yeerk and human. John Forrest represented the human race. Prince Samir the Andalites. The newley promoted Visser One, the Yeerks. The ongoing war had caused many deaths on three sides. At leats, here they agreed - the massacre _must _stop.

"Andalite Prince Samir, authorities have been extremely deceived by your government's decisions. Quarantine is not the option for Earth. Right now our numbers are greatly reduced, but within a few years a breakthrough could easily be made."

The quarantine was a bad plan and has been abandoned.

"The Yeerks' initiative was originally to conquer Earth, I admit. But we are now open to more suggestions."

You have no business in integrating yourself to Earth. It is not your planet, as far as I know.

"The Yeerks _must _go to other worlds, we need host bodies. Are you condemning us to remain a weak, retarded species, in the shallow pools of out home planet?"

We suggest nothing of the sort. But the Yeerks should find a more peaceful way of developing themselves.

"We have no other way than to infest hosts."

"Perhaps there is a way. The Animorphs have often mentioned some other planet where a close parent of the Yeerks live in total symbiose with their hosts. The Yeerks themselves genetically modified themselves to suit only their hosts."

"That is a brilliant suggestion, Prince Samir, but due to your troop's repeated attacks we do not have the facilities required for such a project."

"I believe there is a possibility, along those lines. Some accounts indicate a rather good collaboration between voluntary hosts and their Yeerks. What incommodates people so much is, I believe, the fact that the Yeerks have total control of their host's body. I believe a solution would be to deprive the Yeerks of their ability to _control _their hosts, so that the link bewteen human and Yeerk is much more friendly. And perhaps some device, that can replace the Kandrona pool, so the Yeerk can be independent. Such symbiose would, before long, create a true mental link between human and Yeerk. This way, the infestation would rather become vital to the human's mental health. And social scientists are advancing the theory that this would be like some sort of, er, best friend, both would be in total harmony. A true symbiose. But, I repeat, Yeerks must be totally deprived of their faculty to control a body."

Silence. 

Mr. Forrest, I hope you fully understand the irrationality of this idea? A symbiose between humans and Yeerks, they'd be off conquering the universe afterwards!

"That is a wondrous suggestion, and may be the best solution. After all, a quarantine would have had the same effect, just somewhat harsher. Mr. Forrest, many Yeerks have been expressing the desire for a peaceful collaboration, and few actually wish to control their hosts. My people simply wish to experience the sights and smells and sensations of a world, as in our natural state we are blind and deaf. We would have to test the idea first, and things would be made much more quickly if the Andalites offered techological help."

Mr. Forrest, think about what you are doing! You are condemning the whole human race to slavery!!!

"Not at all. With your biological technology, the Yeerks' capability to control their hosts can be removed. It would be a perfect symbiose."

Then, would you consent to release your Hork-Bajir hosts?"

"Yes, of course, if the Yeerk-human symbiose goes onto all the planet."

Prince Samir sighed, and agreed to help the symbiose. 

(Here there was an insert from Samir's _hirac delest _a few years later)

Humans were mad to suggest such a thing! No doubt, once they had the humans, the Yeerks would spread like a disease. But the modifications were made, and tested. Baby humans who grew up with a Yeerk in their heads were in fact much more healthier, lived longer, were happier. It was shocking to see the real mental bonds between the two. One of those Yeerks was removed from its host. The results were terrible. The Yeerk, once it had tasted the real Kandrona rays, was no longer satisfied with the synthetic ones. And the human became nearly mad - he would all the time sob about being frightened without a friend, that they missed having someone to talk to, someone who shared their opinions, who thought the same way they did. When the two were put back together again they barely recognized eachother, and the Yeerk was destroyed by the human's immunity system, since it could not control it.

Young humans who were infested too at birth, and had infested parents, were even more at peace, in harmony. We took a Yeerk away from one of those humans - he became insane.

Grinder took of the glasses. He'd never known what it was like to have a Yeert, or Yeerk, in his head. He'd been born accidentally, but had been found then raised in a rich family. He'd quickly gone to power, with his ideas on peace and harmony. The world was still in a bad state after the Seerow war. Now he had power over the entire planet. 

He was God, immortal, all-powerful. He controlled the world. He'd practically forgotten his past, illusioned himself in his supreme divinity.


	2. O'Maha Beach

Utopia - chapter 2 ****

Utopia - chapter 2

O'maha Beach

"My Lord, your presence is demanded at the Imprisonment Area."

Grinder got up irritably and whisked back to the IA. He hoped it was something urgent, or he'd have the director tortured for that.

"My Lord, the prisoner Mallveet, in his demency, has been screaming information concerning the Resistance."

Grinder listened, interested. 

"Did he say where the base was?"

"Yes, in the sub-city, near the river bend, apparently. He… He also mentioned something on an attack to the Andalite-"

"That will be enough! I will question him myself." Grinder snapped. So, there was a traitor in his ministers? The solution was simple. Have them all tortured, and confined for a cycle. No-one must know that he was planning to attack the Andalites.

Mallveet had revealed little. Grinder had ordered the guardians to torture his Yeert as well. He sat heavily at his desk. So there were some traitors! Grinder had already had one too many problems with this Resistance. They were out of any camera range, it was impossible to locate them, and to find out who were the adepts to this movement. The river bend was still partly wild, and had little camera surveillance. 

"My Lord, there has been an amazing discovery, in the sector 1302, you… It would be desirable for you to witness it. I suspect it may be of great interest to you." A security guard said.

"What kind of discovery?" he asked severely. He'd had enough time wasted like that!

"From white I've heard, it is some sort of remain of alien technology, unidentified… It is very unclear."

Sighing, Grinder followed. On the way he called one or two attendants. The guard led him to a platform ship, and they quickly hovered towards sector 1302. Suddenly the hoverer stopped. 

"This isn't sector 1302!" he protested. In fact, it was the river bend. What…

Suddenly something hit him very hard on the back of the head. The floor approached his face in a jerk, then he lost consciousness.

Grinder woke up. Everything was gray at first. Then gradually his mind cleared. He was in a small cabin, alone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a door. It was magnetically locked. Still faint, he struggled to get up. He had never felt this weak. Probably he'd been drugged. Surprise let place to anger. How dare those vile rats do this to him! He was at a climax of rage. The damned traitors! He would have… He struggled to think of the worst punishment he could inflict. Torturing would do it; slow torture. A few hours a day; and each day they would know they were going to experience a pain beyond their imagination, with short inserts of pure pleasure, to contrast. He did not even think of how he could escape. He was instead planning how to punish the cause of the problem. 

He also noticed someone had taken his mask off. So the people who had seen his face, would be tortured to insanity, confined, their Yeert returned un-vaccined so they could watch their companion die slowly inside them… He felt very moist on the face, and wiped it. Stunned, he looked at his hand; there was a trail of blood on it. This simple fact was incomprehensible; for a long time, so long he'd forgotten the times before it, Grinder had really believed he was immortal, all-powerful. Mallveet's words came back into his mind; "You think you're God, you think you're all powerful. But you aren't. You're not immortal. We'll kill you."

He could not possibly conceive that this simple, stupid man could have been right; that he was really a human being like any other. He was already starting to extrapolate how they maybe had cut themselves on his implants, and blood had dripped on his forehead. It sounded unlikely but it was the only solution he could think of. Then he went on to thinking about how he could make them suffer more for fouling him with their blood. 

Grinder was still deep down in his crazed thoughts when the door opened. Again, he quickly wondered how he could react to this situation where he was weaker than his enemies. To save his honor he acted unconscious. To his regret, no-one talked. He heard something very large being sort of rolled in.

"Wake up, you damned tartar!" Someone kicked him hard in the sides. Part of Grinder wondered what a tartar was, but the rest of him was in indignation that someone had dared kick him. 

He opened his eyes, and looked up furiously at the people around him. His vision was still blurry and he couldn't make out the faces though; but he could definitely see a huge white sphere. Someone took his hand and pressed it against the sphere, it was a hard, smooth texture. Then suddenly he felt the world around him fading; it slowly dissolved to show another one, completely new. 

He was suddenly lying on a strange-colored grass, a lighter green than usual. Near him there were trees with extremely rough and gnarled barks. The smell of the air was different; much more pure and fresh and oxygen-rich. Grinder felt strange breathing an air like that, like he was getting drunk. He heard a voice near him.

"Have a horrid life, tartar!" Then everything was silent again. 

Grinder, already drugged, was now somewhat drunk from the amount of oxygen in the air. Maybe he was on another planet, but this felt like Gaâ. He was feeling exhausted and didn't try to move just yet.

A few hours later he felt better. His brain got used to the abundance of oxygen. He managed to stand up and look around him. The area looked near the seaside but details were different from what he knew. He certainly was on another part of the planet, but maybe he'd also been carried into time; that seemed likely. A worrying thought went to him; maybe he was in the past, where he would not yet be ruling. In which case he needed to find a way to get back to his time. For once, his mind was not concentrating on punishing the criminals; instead he was trying to figure out what _he _should do _now_. 

In the distance he saw a few buildings; they looked primitive enough. He just hoped he was after the 0 years; he did not want to be caught in the middle of war-time.

Further out at sea, the fleet of black boats approached the coast. In them were gaggles of ashen faced men, wearing army uniforms. A sickening atmosphere hung over each boat. And there was a horrible stench, a vile smell that filled the mind with dread; death was aboard the ships too and would come into action soon.

On the beach other men were preparing various weapons; cannons, guns. The atmosphere was slightly different among the soldiers there - it was anticipation, nervousness. The fleet of black boats was visible, and they were getting closer.

Now the black boats stopped. A first few soldiers jumped into the waist-deep freezing water. Then the shooting started; several of them fell dead before they had done a step. The other soldiers that jumped out treaded in a water red and brown with blood, dead bodies already floating. Nevertheless they continued to advance in a suicidal determination; the opposing camp never ceased shooting. 

Now the first few soldiers crawled onto the beach. Mines and grenades started flying. A soldier was projected ten feet into the air by an exploding grenade. No-one knew his last though was for his five kids at home, and his wife, to whom he'd promised to come back soon.

Another one lay writhing and screaming in agony until his eyes popped. His arm and half his face had been torn off. A bullet in his head silenced him.

A very young soldier fell under the rifle of shots. He yelled his girlfriend's name, that no-one heard, and fell dead.

It was onto this sinister and morbid battle that Grinder walked in. He watched with a morbid fascination the ongoing slaughter. More and more soldiers flowed in, treading past the dead ones. Behind him there was a noise. A man in the German uniform approached him.

__

"Was macht du da?" 

Grinder looked at him blankly.

__

"Americaner?!" the soldier asked again.

"I'm sorry what did you?…"

__

"Americaner! Americaner!" started yelling the soldier frantically, pointing at him. Other men started heading towards him suspiciously. Grinder did not like this attitude, but he couldn't go on, with the bloody battle a few feet away from him. Just then, a misplaced mine exploded; Grinder saw a brilliant white flash and felt himself thrust in the air. He landed several feet away, body numb. He felt horrendous; his outer skin tissues were ripped, his face bleeding, his whole body screaming with excruciating pain. He could not move; for a fleeting instant, his mind panicked by the pain wondered how it was possible that he, the powerful, immortal god of Gaâ, could be treated like this. But it was sheer instinct that saved Grinder from death; in an almost convulsive movement he rolled away, lying low, at a few seconds after a few bullets hit the sand where he had been.

At that moment, Grinder finally knew where he'd landed; this place was Hell. Then Hell became black.

Grinder was woken up a few minutes later. A strange personage was staring up at him.

"So, tartar, you liked that?" came the mocking voice.

Grinder didn't answer. He wasn't sure his mind was in a sane state; the brisk change from control of the planet to absolute Hell was too brutal. But he had a feeling it was only a start…

Again, the world around him dissolved. Now he was in a field, it was the same kind of atmosphere and nature as the beach, but at least here it was peaceful. 

"Let's try you at the Seerow wars, for a few years, shall we? Five years in the middle of it should do you a lot of good."

No, not the Seerow wars… His mind pleaded. But he could not find the strength to speak - his mouth muscles were sore and bleeding. 

A few hours later the bleeding had stopped but there was still raw, burnt flesh in some areas. His mind was no longer thinking about the past - or rather, the future - he was trying to clean up his thoughts and try to decide to do something. 

He heard a cry of surprise from somewhere near, and felt footsteps running towards him.

"Dear Lord, what on Earth happened?!" yelled a feminine voice. 

"What is it, honey?" asked a male voice further off.

"Tell Cassie to call the ambulance, quick! And come and help me."

The man approached, and bent over Grinder. He had black skin, and short thick hair.

"What the hell happened to you boy? Susan, help me lift him to the house."

Grinder felt himself clumsily lifted and carried, then carried inside, and put on a table.

"Mom, Dad, what hap…" The girl gasped at the sight. 

"Cassie, give me some cotton," said the woman. Then she dabbed his more serious wounds. It was painful, and Grinder worried that the 0-years medical knowledge was feeble compared to the year 1000 technology. He didn't really trust those people even if he knew they wanted to help him.

Soon after an ambulance arrived. Grinder's wounds were disinfected and cleansed, and there was a bumpy ride to the hospital. In here the conditions were more hygienic. They'd plastered his broken ribs in some stiff bandage - primitive methods, even though they'd be efficient in the end. 

While Grinder's body was healing steadily, his mind was far from it. He knew he'd have no power in this world - and it hit him fully in the face that he wasn't all-mighty. He was a normal human being, as vulnerable as any other - he was forced to accept that. Yet he couldn't keep going back to his original way of thinking - punishing the cause of the problem. The problem was the Resistance. Why were they there? His mind drifted to Mallveet, then onto the Yeerts… Impossible to think straight. 

Then he was annoyed at the incapacity of the people at the hospital - they kept manipulating his implants, a most annoying thing. They also kept asking him his name, and his family name. Grinder had no idea what that was, and anyway his face hurt far too much for him to pronounce words.


	3. My Freedom For His

Several doctors seemed particularly interested in the claw-like implants, three on each hand between his knuckles ****

Utopia - chapter 3

My Freedom For His

Several doctors seemed particularly interested in the claw-like implants, three on each hand between his knuckles. Grinder suspected they were controllers - their manners were formal, and when they handled apparatus it was always with a certain contempt; Yeerks obviously had better technology at the time, and they were always avid to learn more - no wonder they were fascinated by those useful in-built weapons.

Within ten days Grinder's mouth had nicely healed. The doctors and nurses pestered him with his "family name"; but in the end they simply concluded that Grinder was some street kid, which also explained the deplorable state he'd been taken in, and they also seemed to think his language was funny - of course, with a 1000 year's difference languages would of course be deformed. Gaâ, for example, was derived from Gaya, the name given to Earth after the Milky Way treatee.

They also asked his age; but when Grinder replied 45, they laughed and apparently refused to believe him. He remembered that in the 0 years average life span in the richer countries was merely 70. This explained why they treated him much like an adolescent, rather than an adult. 

Grinder had been in good health for several days - his body had healed at faster speed. The hospital staff had again started pestering him with his parent's names, or his "legal guardian" - probably for the hospital fees. He couldn't stay in the hospital forever. So one night he got up, opened the window and climbed down. He spent the night wandering around the town - it was full of night-life. How could he possibly find someone who knew about the Yeerks, about Andalites and their technology…

The answer dawned onto him. Simple; if this was the 0 years then he simply had to find the Animorphs. Come to think of it… Yes, that girl, whose parents had found him. They'd called her Cassie, didn't they? She'd written several books about their war against the Yeerks. They often met in her barn, didn't they? Maybe he'd have a look there. He'd seen a calendar at the hospital - so right now… They'd just had the episode with the Nartec, hadn't they? Quite morbid, that one was. Mild moral damage, they'd be getting over that now. He couldn't remember what would be happening to them next (a/n; and neither do I, so this story starts after N.36, regardless of what happens next).

He was cutting through a somewhat shabbier alley when a group of teenagers, that looked his age, approached him.

"Hey dude, you got any money?"

"No," he replied coldly.

"Hey, c'mon, hand it over," continued one of them. At that moment two others seized his shoulders roughly. Something in Grinder's mind flashed.

"Leave me," he ordered, in a calm, glacial manner. For a moment he saw doubt on their faces. Clearly they didn't expect such calmness.

"Hey, dude, you don't fight and we let you go, kay, so-"

"I ordered you to leave me."

"Hey man, who d'ya think you are-" He didn't finish his sentence. Grinder quickly freed his arms and seized the guy on his right, and flipped him over. The second, he grabbed his hair and very violently knocked his head against the wall. Then the third - the third guy was holding a gun at him. Some ancient model.

"Hey, nice karate stuff there, but that isn't gonna work on me."

"Of course it isn't. You have the gun, hence the power; I can't do anything against you now."

The third guy looked a bit surprised at that. Grinder exploited this moment of surprise.

"You can kill me of course. But what use would that be of? My death would profit nothing to you. As I told you, I have no money. You'd say to yourself you had the guts to kill a man; that you could truly defend yourself, if in turn someone else had to kill _you_. You would consider yourself stronger, but that is just an illusion - and if you don't kill me, then I would be indebted to you greatly. And then you could take advantage of that situation. So you see, all the power is on your side, you can kill me if you wish, but by not killing me you'll have even more power." The words came to him easily, he felt he knew exactly what to say. And it had an effect - the guy lowered the gun and looked at him interestingly. It was not for nothing that Grinder had, in a few years, risen to such a phenomenal power - he was an excellent orator, capable of convincing any individual or crowd. 

"You talk like some sorta genius - where d'you come from, anyway?"

"That's quite a long story. I don't live anywhere precise."

"Hey, why don't you go about with us? I mean, we could use with some of that karate stuff."

"Us?"

"The gang. Sort of…"

"Rebels of the current society?" 

"Well, yeah, that's pretty much it," guffawed the guy. He woke up the other two men and led him through a maze of somber and complicated alleys.

The clacks of wood clashing against itself echoed through the hall. Two dozens of teenagers and young adults stood watching, mesmerized. Two people were fighting in the improvised arena - a Japanese girl, silky black hair and alert black eyes, moving with a feline grace, a another young man, with short dark hair, but his movements were experienced, calculating, ruthless. All movements were executed in the fraction of a second, both opponents seemed to be perfectly synchronized as they were doing no effort at all. But ultimately, the young man in a sweeping gesture projected the girl's baton a few yards away, at had her at his mercy. He smiled satisfactorily.

"Brilliant. You're extremely fast, but try to be more precise. Keep your head at all times." He picked up the baton and handed it back to her. For a moment, she looked untrustingly and the set of three metal claws that erupted unnaturally from in between his knuckles, sharp and glistening and deadly. 

"Man, Grinder, that was cool, where d'you learn all that stuff?"

"Places," he replied very vaguely. That was Grinder - most of it mystery and evasive answers. But he was a valuable member of the gang, ingenious, clever, ruthless - that guy had it all, though Jon. Like he was forged for the tough life. And he had vocab too - when he spoke something in his tone imposed respect, a sort of grandeur. When he started talking, everyone hushed and listened. He seemed to be skilled in every matter - from politely obtaining money from a bypasser, supposedly for a bus ticket, to violently beating up some rich-looking bloke, seizing all valuable possessions. With all the new income, the gang had a new spurt of life - cigarettes, drugs, various junk could be afforded. It was a semblance of organization. 

And Grinder had found an aim, a purpose for the gang - rebels of the current society, he said. Jon felt comfortable at the HQ, in the old fishing hangar. The old tires piled up, empty crates, even the broken windows - all that seemed home. His parents were divorced, the new guy hated kids, and all that - here, there was some comfort, at least, other people in similar situations. There was also freedom. He'd died part of his hair blond - there was admiration at his funkiness. He'd tattooed the picture of a skull and a snake on his back - the girls thought it was sexy. Many people were the "odd ones out". But perhaps Grinder was the most odd - no-one knew where he came from, how he'd gotten those sort of claws… 

Targin four-seven-two, of the Marach Qunn pool, was also fascinated by this mysterious Grinder. He'd been disgruntled, at first, to have a host so low in the human society; but sub-visser 43 had been formal, all ranks of the human society must be infiltered. He had reported this Grinder at his last visit to the Yeerk pool as an able speaker, for the Sharing. And there were reasons to think he had knowledge of superior technology, those claw-like implants being wonderfully efficient. Best of all, he had been promised Grinder as a host should he manage to arrange his capture… The sub-visser had given him five Hork-Bajirs, he'd told them to wait in St. Anne's street, nearly always deserted. 

His current host, Julia, was naturally against this idea - she felt a sort of respect for Grinder, an admiration. Pathetic human feelings. 

"Where did you learn baton-fighting?" asked Julia. She and Grinder were strolling in lamp-lit streets, without precise goal.

Grinder sighed interiorly. Many people had asked him that, he'd only replied extremely vaguely. He'd wanted to think peacefully, how he could possibly get back into his time, but that little pest followed him like a dog. She was remarkably good at baton, but that was no reason to stick to him like glue.

"A friend of my parent's," he lied. 

There was an uncomfortable silence. She expected him to add more, but he kept his mouth shut. They turned into St. Anne's street, quite darker… For some reason Julia tensed. He heard a ruffle of footsteps around, heavy breathing. He stopped.

"What was…" A great huge reptilian hand came sweeping down on him. Grinder ducked so that it grazed his hair. 

__

Hork-Bajir! Yeerks! His mind screamed. Several tall figures appeared from the gloom. Four, five! Two of them dived on him. He was knocked to the ground, but deeply dug his claws into their lower stomach. One of them rolled off, moaning in agony, but another seized him tightly around the shoulders. The others closed in too! Grinder fought like a devil but he was no match against four Hork-Bajir. Julia? Did she escape? No, she was standing a few feet away. Looking very calm… Far too calm…

"Yeerk!" he spat in disgust. This had all been an ambush! How could he have trusted her, any of those vile rats…

When she stuck her ear against his, he knew what was going to happen. And this wasn't even a simple Yeert, a Yeerk, that controlled your every move… He felt with horror the slimy end of the slug slithering into his ear… His whole mind and body leagued itself against this parasite invading him. No! No! No! No!

Targin was surprised when he entered Grinder's head - first of all, his brain was a slightly different configuration than other humans - somehow more compact. Then he noticed how much more difficult it was to slide through the ear canal, he had to flatten himself so much more. And when he connected himself to the first few neurones and nerves…

It was like a different branch of species. There was so much more alertness, perception… And this brain seemed far more _intelligent_. It could evaluate a situation in many different ways, it was more calculating, ruthless, mature. 

Then came the memories.

First of all, Targin had expected an intelligent mind, but young and maybe inexperienced - Grinder looked merely eighteen or nineteen. But instead there were far more memories, like those of an already aged human. 

But the most shocking of all were the memories in themselves. 

Targin saw Earth 1000 years into the future. He saw the hovers, the medical technologies. He saw the perfect symbiose between human and Yeerk, or rather Yeert. And he paged through every memory of Grinder's life; the rise to power, his ruling of the whole of Earth. He saw the secret of the supposed Andalite resistance - a mere batchful of human children, and an Andalite cadet. Meanwhile, the real Grinder, now locked up in a minute corner of his own mind, was still yelling, attempting to break free of Targin's control. 

"It's all right, I've got it." He announced. The Hork-Bajir let him go. 

"What do we do with the girl?" asked the Hork-Bajir holding Julia. There were silent tears streaming down her face.

"Take her back to the pool for reinfestation. I'll be keeping this host."

Julia barely tried to resist as the Hork-Bajir marched her down the stairs to the Yeerk Pool - already the screams reached her ears. Why do the Yeerks have to ruin everything in this world? She asked herself. Grinder had been such a mysterious, amazing person, now he was a mere body ordered around by an alien slug. She would have gladly kept her slavery to prevent his. 

She hated those Yeerks. Those vile slugs. They ruined everything she admired, she loved; they'd killed her mother and her loved pet cat, infested her brother; and now they had Grinder.

She hated them. But she couldn't do anything about it.

Grinder could do nothing as well. He was screaming, attempting to regain control of his body, yelling at the Yeerk with fury. But the blasted slug had neatly clamped down in his mind, and was freely going through all of his memories, quite fascinated. He could barely find the words - there were flashes of blood red and black that told enough. It was several hours until he tired and had to calm down.

Blimey, taunted the Yeerk, You're one devil of a fighter aren't you?

GET OUT OF MY HEAD YOU BLOODY SLUG!!!

Wouldn't dream of it. My, you've had a fascinating life, haven't you? Ruler of the world… All that rubbish about peace and harmony… Well, that's the stuff they wanted to hear, and you used that cleverly. Really, I'm impressed.

GETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT…

Calm down will you? You're getting in a state for nothing. You know you can't fight me.

Grinder kept silent.

Now that's better-

"Get out you mother fuxsss sseee…" 

Fucking Yeerk! finished Grinder mentally. That sudden burst of will was like a mental slap to Targin - he reassured his control over the body more vigilantly.

Insult me all you like, it won't have any effect.

Why, then I still will. You're a slimy piece of Taxxon vomit, rotten Hork-Bajir pus, like a piece of Andalite intestines, a sick-looking mass of flesh fished from the sewers, some putrid being rolled in dog saliva-

Targin sighed and tuned off. He was waiting in a room next to the Yeerk pool. Sub-visser 43, his superior, would be wanting a report soon. Targin would of course tell him all about the Animorphs, the Yeerk resistance. He would tell him this host was in fact from the future, that by his mere ability to charm entire crowds he had come to rule the world. Yet he wouldn't tell anyone about the symbiose, not just yet - that needed thinking over. 


End file.
